Observations

Disclaimer: the characters and Universe of Star Trek do not belong to me, and I'm not making any financial gain from this story.

Constructive criticism welcomed - I have a thick skin. Is there too much description, is it too slow?

A/N: General Season 1 spoilers and a tiny Shockwave II spoiler in a later chapter that I don't think is noticeable unless you've seen the episode.

Who is the mysterious stranger and why his interest in Enterprise and her crew? This story involves all the main characters to some extent with quite a bit of Malcolm.

This story takes place immediately before 'Ceasefire', Season 2.

Chapter 1-- Bar Fly

Malcolm Reed was perched on a high stool at the bar with his elbows resting on the counter. Between his fingers was cradled a clear glass that he inspected minutely as if for flaws, tilting it this way and that to catch the light. It didn't make the blue drink it contained any more palatable. For one thing, it was far too luminous - by all rights, it should be radiating madly. However, it was innocuous. Too innocuous for Malcolm. He gazed into the virtually alcohol-free drink, drooped a little and sighed. He couldn't for the life of him imagine why Commander Tucker had selected this bar as the place to be on their only night of shore leave on the planet Ramerrum.

None of their Enterprise crewmates had been stupid enough to end up here - only them, Malcolm thought gloomily, wincing at the decor - an unholy jumble of bright primary colors set off by vivid neon highlights. Some artificial, rather dusty fronds adorned the walls, lending a tired, down-at-heel air to the place. The bar counter occupied one side of the stone-flagged room, with tables and seating taking up the rest of the space.

Malcolm cast a jaundiced eye over the other patrons - an unimpressive bunch of aliens in his opinion. He gave a dismissive snort. Was this why he had traveled tens of light years from Earth? Wonderful! The Ramerrum bartender flashed his yellow fangs at the armory officer in what Malcolm took to be an amicable expression. Urghh. Malcolm didn't bother to suppress the grimace that flashed across his own face in return.

Malcolm was sitting alone, Trip having deserted him much to Malcolm's disgust. Malcolm gently swirled his drink around, steeling himself to tackle it again. With a sudden determination, he lifted the glass to his lips to take a gulp of the sickly sweet liquid. It reminded him of a syrupy cough mixture in the way it coated the inside of his mouth and conferred a furry texture to his tongue. Giving a grunt, the miserable officer hunched further over his glass. If this was supposed to be fun, he thought grumpily, then he obviously was not a fun loving guy. Why had he agreed to Trip's suggestion?

The bar had a certain amount of bustle to be sure but most of the other customers appeared to be regulars in their own little cliques and showed no interest in welcoming outsiders. Several other singletons were dotted around, but each was preoccupied in his, her or its own activities. Malcolm was not inclined to make the effort to disturb them. He didn't like making small talk at the best of times, and at present he had no motivation whatsoever.

Malcolm stole a glance over his shoulder toward Trip, sitting on the far side of the room -- he seemed to be enjoying himself. He had somehow managed to charm his way into the confidences of another off worlder, a rather fetching female with golden plumes erupting from her forearms and the nape of her neck. Malcolm wondered idly if they were natural or a decoration, and exactly how far they extended over her body. Then he gave an exasperated sigh. It didn't look as if he would be the one to find out. He rammed his glass down. Hard.

Trip looked up and caught Malcolm's envious gaze. He gave a little shrug and lift of the eyebrows -- something that said quite clearly, 'sorry pal, but you've got to make the most of your opportunities, haven't you?'

Malcolm supposed he would do the same in Trip's position, except it always seemed to be Trip in that position. The feathered beauty had made it quite clear that three was a crowd and Trip had apparently been too taken with her to object.

Malcolm gave Trip a frosty, unamused stare but Trip only smirked and returned his full attention to his new friend who seemed to be melting before him. Malcolm had some uncharitable thoughts concerning hummingbirds and flowers -- Trip looked bloody ridiculous in that multicolored monstrosity of a shirt, but it seemed to attract females whereas his more tasteful and sober attire...

Irritated, Malcolm shook his head in disgust and turned away back to the bar. Well, he consoled himself, at least he was playing safe - not that he had much choice in the matter, he had to acknowledge. He couldn't believe how easy-going Trip had been when striking up an acquaintance with the alien, however attractive she appeared to be. Had Trip learnt nothing from their unfortunate experience on Risa? A brief shudder passed through the armory officer's frame as he recalled that stupefying, seared-in moment when their 'conquests' had revealed their true nature to be shapeshifting ugly male nightmares. His face flushed with embarrassment at the memory. Admittedly, he had been off-duty and pretty drunk, but still... to be fooled so completely. And what was worse, although much of their time on Risa had passed by in a haze which he could not recall, try as he might, that dreadful horror had not yet faded to a bearable level. Thank God the Captain had never found out.

Malcolm growled in annoyance. Some shore leave this was! Perhaps he should have gone wild beast watching with Travis after all. Too late now though...

'Oh, what the hell,' Malcolm thought, straightening up in decision. 'I'll finish this drink and then I'm off. I don't think the Commander needs me to baby sit him.' There were those reports on the planet's security systems he had to finish anyway. He took another gulp and cast his eyes over the decorations behind the bar for the umpteenth time and then across to the seating area.

One of the tables was occupied by an individual who was writing on something resembling a PADD. He was a bipedal, two-armed humanoid, with a blueish tinge to his skin and darker speckling over his forehead. Thick dark blue hair with silvery highlights sprouted from his head in an unkempt flurry. The alien certainly wasn't a native of this planet or any nearby. Speculating on the alien's planet of origin, Malcolm thought it probably had gravity similar to Earth's, judging by his build, and perhaps closer to their sun. Profession? The alien was rather thin and appeared unathletic. An academic perhaps?

Malcolm often amused himself by playing this guessing game; it honed his observational and deductional skills. The alien peered over his PADD to the far side of the room. He was also observing, Malcolm realized with a start. In fact, he was paying excessively close attention to Commander Tucker and friend. There were several other groups in the room. Why was the alien was focussing on this pair? Crimes were infrequent on Ramerrum, but not unheard of and Malcolm suddenly felt uneasy.

Malcolm pointedly turned back again to the bar and looked down at his glass, which was now almost empty. He concentrated on his peripheral vision and noted that the alien was also studying him when he imagined Malcolm was looking elsewhere. So, it was humans in general he was interested in, was it, thought Malcolm.

What should he do? He could just leave now and go back to the ship. Or he could find out why this blue-skinned man had an apparent fascination with humans. It was no contest, of course. Malcolm was conscious that he had a reputation amongst his crewmates for being over cautious and unduly paranoid, but it was the only way to keep everyone safe. Someone had to be prepared by taking a realistic view of the dangers that faced them. Malcolm couldn't ignore something that could turn out to be a threat, despite Trip's annoying behavior.

Waiting until the alien was engrossed with his writing, Malcolm swiveled towards him. The alien looked up to continue with his observation only to find himself meeting Malcolm's best menacing glare. The alien jerked in surprise, clearly flustered. He flinched backwards, his PADD slipping his grasp onto the stone flagged floor where it skittered along with a clatter. Malcolm was highly gratified to learn that the look he had perfected to use on errant subordinates also served him well against this alien. The satisfaction manifested itself as a cruel twist to his mouth, adding to the daunting effect.

The alien gawped at Malcolm in a most unattractive manner, his yellow eyes round with shock.

Malcolm's heart gave a thump as adrenaline coursed through his body. My God! Those eyes! Could this alien be a Suliban!? He cursed silently at his lack of a sidearm.
TBC